Limbo
by Konstantinsen
Summary: Pyrrha Nikos gave it her all. Now resigned to her fate, she did not expect to wake up again, much less share her afterlife with a person who might offer her a way back to the surface. [one-shot, inspired by CHASE.fla by Krinkels]


**NOTE: Here's a quick one. Written on the spot, unedited, and thrown out here because I'm currently feeling high from RWBY and Madness Combat. Had to get my fix, man.**

 **Inspired by " _CHASE . fla"_ and by " _SACRIFICE . fla"_ Krinkels. Check 'em out on YouTube.**

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Pyrrha gasped awake.

Instinct made it that her hand reached up to her chest where she expected to yank on the shaft of the arrow that went through her. Instead, she found herself whole and unblemished though slightly soiled. Her addled mind cleared and the first thing that registered was the cloudless crimson sky. The ground was rough, cold, and hard. She made to stand, only managing to sit up, and took in her surroundings.

The world around her was a void. A sort of broken afterlife where chunks of earth floated over the abyss. No sun, no celestial bodies, no other living thing she could discern... She was alone.

"Am I in Hell?" she fearfully wondered.

The last thing she could recall was her duel with Cinder. It was hazy but the details slowly filtered in. Her weapons breaking, the arrow tearing into her heart, the fire that would have consumed her...that would have ended her... She was supposed to be dead. Was this the afterlife then? Has her soul been damned by whatever twisted deity that found her tribulations amusing?

Then something happened.

Pyrrha couldn't quite explain it. But given that she was no longer on Remnant, she guessed that it was part of this Hell that she woke up to. The atmosphere shook, as though someone had slammed their sledgehammer against the building's foundation, causing a large fissure in reality.

There it was again.

The shockwave rippled through...everything. She straggled to her feet, stumbling when the air in front of her literally _shattered open_.

And a man who had been through much worse leapt through, rifle in hand.

He stiffened as their eyes locked. He was filthier, wrapped in a ripped overcoat, dirty bandages wrapped around the back of his head. He was panting, clearly showing signs of the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He had been through something. Most likely something harrowing, exciting...

Pyrrha opened her mouth to speak when he turned on his heels and shot into the darkness he emerged from. When he seemed satisfied, he looked back at her, studying her. She could see his lower jaw bore the signs of wear.

"W-who..."

"Deimos. You?"

She gulped. "Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos."

Deimos grunted. "Dead?"

"I...I think so."

"Welcome to Purgatory then. Just got here?"

"I...I don't know..."

The man sighed. "It's alright. It can be a bit overwhelming but you get used to it. Sort of."

"You... You died?"

Deimos stared at her. "Why else do you think I'm here? I was shot nine times, four bullets went right here"—he pointed to the splotches of dark skin covering his chin—"tore through my skull. The rest were all over my back."

Pyrrha gawked. She was definitely dead if this person so casually explained how he left the world of the living. How long had he been here? Maybe he could help...? "I...was shot in the chest."

"...Right. Okay."

"With an arrow."

The man studied her, confused. Then he shook his head. "Of course. Sure. There's always an unlimited number of ways to kill someone."

"I'd rather...not think about that."

"I don't blame you."

Deimos peered again into the hole he came out of. Then a third time. He caught her shifting, giving him odd looks. "Just...paranoid. Carryover from when I was still alive."

"You were...a soldier?"

"Was. More of a mercenary, actually. Operator, you could say. My last mission cost me as you can very well tell."

Pyrrha sat back down on the ground, feeling more comfortable in this uncomfortable world. She waited for him to stop pacing in front of the hole, looking in, looking around, aiming his gun, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Did you fight for Atlas?"

"... What?"

"Atlas. Did you report to General Ironwood?"

"Ah, no." Deimos slouched. Not as relaxed but still. "We...worked for a...government organization."

"I see." Pyrrha could understand why he was apprehensive. "I...I was a student."

"Huh. Murder?"

"... Yes."

The man studied her more. Then he sighed and sat in front of her. "If it makes you feel better, I've been looking for a way out."

Her green eyes lit up. "B-but we're dead!"

"And I've seen men break out of Hell after having their bodies ripped apart. It's possible. Trust me. I've been working on it for...I don't know, years maybe... There's no time reference in the afterlife."

"How can you be sure?"

Deimos offered her a wry grin. "The people who killed me... They've been sending their goons here. To really finish me off. I don't know why. I'm already dead but I guess they're either crazy or really want me not to come back."

Pyrrha sputtered like a fish out of water. That did not make any sense. Then again, that explained his behavior, his entrance. Looking over his shoulder, checking for pursuers. And he had a loaded rifle that appeared very functional.

"I know. Hard to believe. But if you stick around, maybe we can get out of this together."

The multitude of thoughts clouded her brain. She felt a little dizzy but steadied herself. Her physical body may have ceased to exist but if what Deimos was saying was true... She had to take that chance. She had to get back to the surface. She needed to see Jaune again! She could finally cheat death, cheat fate. This is not how Pyrrha Nikos should go. She went down fighting but this time, she'd be taking Cinder with her.

After a long pause and a resolute nod, she took his hand as he helped her up.

Deimos smiled. "You've got a good grip there. I take it you're an athlete?"

"Tournament fighter."

"Right. Guess that explains the get-up."

"So...where do we start?"

The man pointed to the scattered chunks of earth floating around them. "We get off this rock. No doubt the pricks coming after me are going to follow up with that hole over there."

"How do you suppose we do that?"

Deimos flashed her a smile that hinted at insanity. "We jump."

"Wha—" Pyrrha nearly bit her tongue when he wrapped his hand over her waist and dragged her with him when he leapt off the edge.

They fell. Or floated. Doesn't matter. They drifted in the abyss, landing eventually on a wider surface. A large blocky structure stood in the distance. Deimos pointed to it. "We go there."

"H-how can you be so sure...?" she asked between gasps. No Aura, no Semblance, no Dust, no weapons. She only had her base physical strength to rely on now. At least she could hold her own in a fist fight.

"Only one way to find out. Come on." He handed her a pistol and some rounds. "Make every shot count."

Pyrrha gulped. Killing people? She hoped it wasn't people. She had enough of that experience, thank you. She slowly took the weapon, feeling the groove of the handle and pulling the slide back. She slid in the magazine, letting the mechanism work. She shut her eyes. Breath in, breath out. Then opened them to see Deimos nodding sagely.

"Get used to it, kid. There's no other way."

"I'll try. Lead on."

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 **ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: March 3, 2018**

 **LAST EDITED: March 3, 2018**

 **INITIALLY UPLOADED: March 3, 2018**

 **NOTE: I might edit this later on. Perhaps add some more stuff. If any of you have been following Krinkel's animations recently, you might understand the setting here. This idea has been going around in my head for a month now because I kept listening to the soundtrack to and watching RWBY on the side. Funny how the mind can mesh together two completely different niches into a workable cross-over.**

 **Anyway, hope you guys like this one. This was just a quick fic, written in less than an hour, and posted immediately thereafter. Nothing serious, really. Just a random idea, random one-shot.**

 **Have a nice day, folks.**


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